Can we talk about something else?

Can we talk about something else? The The Oh, yeah. Oh, yeah. Oh, yeah.

Oh,

So, Oh, Oh, Oh,

Oh,

So, Oh, Hello out there. Welcome. It's fucking cold outside. Min is 30, but I'm gutting it out. The studio's warm enough, probably about minus 20 in here. The beers

are slushy. The cigarettes are stale. So let's get to it. As you know I recently had a part in making the baby happen.

This baby cries a lot like babies do. He's letting us know that he's a baby at all hours of the day and night.

This is my second child, the first who you hear every episode in the beginning asking if we can talk about something else,

has been sharing his bed with me some nights as of late.

Our house is like a hut. There aren't many designated areas we share. We live together

much like prehistoric families did I imagine in their caves.

It's not a modern setup but I like to think it's natural in a place full of love and he's

he's a little fussy as they say and there have been many nights where I've been

up for long periods attempting to chill him out bouncing on an exercise ball

repeating the chorus of songs I can't quite recall as I pace the house,

just trying to find the right energy to pass on to them or something, trying to find the

sweet spot, I guess.

There are moments where I think to myself,

this baby's lucky it's me holding him and not some warrant a drug addict,

because if I'm this close to the Redstone, for sure someone less patient is spiking the ball once across the line, right?

But another deep thought I've been mulling is that

...